First Christmas in 221B
by PotterWhoLock54
Summary: It's Christmas 2010 and, although everyone else would just like to enjoy their well-deserved break, Sherlock is thrilled when a interesting case comes up at dinner time. But will he be so thrilled when the case brings a threat of danger to he and his friends?
1. Chapter 1: Christmas Plans

First Christmas in 221B

It was the first time Sherlock was going to have to celebrate Christmas, with more people than just Mrs. Hudson, since he had been celebrating with Mycroft when they were 18. For some reason, John wanted it to be some special occasion, full of lights and presents and people. Sherlock sighed just thinking about it. Tonight was sure to be full of nauseating small talk about television shows and celebrities, all those silly things people cared about. There wasn't even a case to take his mind off it all. Sherlock picked up his violin and angrily began screeching out some notes at random. John happened to stroll into the room from the kitchen just as Sherlock looked out the window, full of his teenager-like angst. "What's wrong with you, then?"

John didn't even look up from the Christmas card he was holding. This was the third time that week that Sherlock had seemed especially angry.

"I don't understand why you make such a big deal out of Christmas. It's just a day. Aren't there more important things you should be worrying about?"

John had heard this speech twice already, so he simply sighed and responded the same way as before. "You know it means a lot to us. Mrs. Hudson wants you to be there. It'll be over soon enough. Then you can go find a good old fashioned murder to solve. Deal?"

Sherlock didn't respond for a moment. He sat slowly in his chair and looked over at John, whose weary face told Sherlock he had been up late again last night, probably more nightmares based on the way his voice had been shaking that morning. Defeated, Sherlock asked politely, "When does it start?"

The smile that came across his best friend's face was worth the long night that it would surely be.


	2. Chapter 2: A Ruined Party

First Christmas in 221B Ch. 2

At seventeen hundred hours that evening, Sherlock, John, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, and Lestrade all sat at the small table in the kitchen of 221B, many "please" and "thank you"s being issued politely. Mrs. Hudson kept all of the plates full of food, insisting they were all far too thin and needed to eat until they got sick. By the third serving of turkey, John politely assured, "I think that's enough, Mrs. Hudson. I don't want to outgrow all of these jumpers you all brought me."

It was true, they had all bought John jumpers for Christmas. John wasn't too disappointed, he loved his jumpers, especially around this time of year, but he already had so many in his closet that he didn't know what to do with.

As they all finished up their last scraps of food and the chatter began again, Lestrade's phone buzzed off loudly from his pocket. "Sorry, I gotta take this."

Lestrade stood and left the room, putting his phone to his ear urgently. Molly attempted to bring Sherlock into the conversation, as he had been nearly forgotten by them as they had been talking about the current prime minister. "So, Sherlock, what have you been up to lately?"

Sherlock seemed distracted ever since Lestrade had left the room and he hadn't heard Molly talking to him. He turned to John and Molly and stated, "John, I think we've got a case."

John stared blankly back and asked apprehensively, "And how do you know that?"

As soon as he asked this, John regretted it. Sherlock started off, talking a mile a minute. "He left his wallet on the table. Some might say he trusts us, but it's doubtful after all the times I've robbed him. Obviously he was eager to answer his phone quickly. It could be his ex, but he didn't even second guess coming here for Christmas dinner so obviously they didn't have any intention of making plans. He looked anxious, something's troubling him. He doesn't have a girlfriend to worry about and we're all here, except everyone at Scotland Yard. Anderson. Donovan. Not at home. They were scheduled to work today. I checked last time we were there. Lestrade didn't work today because he doesn't want me to show him up again, but now there's trouble and they need backup. Who do they call? Lestrade. But he's been in there for five minutes and he's coming to realize that soon I'll be needed in this case."

John and Molly stared, open mouthed in amazement, at Sherlock's brilliance. "It never ceases to amaze me," John said kindly.

They heard Lestrade's footsteps coming into the doorway. "And here he is now," Sherlock stated, an arrogant smile coming across his face.

Lestrade came into the room, phone in hand, looking extremely tired. "Well, I hate to ruin a party, but we're all gonna be working overtime tonight."


	3. Chapter 3: A Friend for the Lonely Soul

First Christmas in 221B ch. 3

Mrs Hudson fretted about as they all sprang from their seats to leave. "You can't work on Christmas!"

Lestrade said, with as much kindness as he could muster at the moment, "Sorry, Mrs. Hudson, but killers don't take holiday."

Nobody was really surprised to see that Sherlock seemed absolutely delighted at the thought of a murder, especially one that seemed as intriguing as this one. He and Lestrade led the way to the front sidewalk and, as they approached the awaiting cab, Lestrade stated, "I'll tell you about the case when we get to Scotland Yard. It'll be easier for me to show you some of our evidence. Oh, Molly, you're wanted at St. Bart's. we'll meet you over there when we're finished."

John, Sherlock, and Lestrade got into the cab, leaving Molly to stand and wait for the next one to come by. "I'll just wait here, then," Molly called after the disappearing cab, quickly getting over her annoyance at them for leaving her by herself.

As they drove on, Sherlock became more and more antsy. He hadn't had a case for four weeks now, a record setting lull. Perhaps Lestrade had gotten a bit jealous of Sherlock's crime solving ability, but honestly, not even mentioning cases anymore was a bit childish.

They finally arrived at Scotland Yard and Sherlock jumped out of the car, dropping a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket as he did so.

"Where did you get these?" John looked furious as he picked the box off the ground.

Sherlock said defensively, "I was getting bored."

There were few times when Sherlock actually made John angry, but sneaking cigarettes always sent John into a frenzy. "You have nicotine patches for a reason, Sherlock. I hid these for your own good."

Sherlock quickly countered, "It was obvious where you hid them."

John was only made angrier. "Do you know how bad these are for you? You'll end up at St. Bart's if you carry on like this."

Sherlock was silent for a moment as John walked ahead. Lestrade came up behind him, as he had awkwardly been watching their little domestic from afar. "Trouble in paradise?" Lestrade joked, also walking in front of Sherlock and into the building behind John.

Something had frozen Sherlock where he stood. John's anger wasn't from Sherlock figuring out his hiding spot, nor from Sherlock going behind his back. John was concerned about him. It had been so long since anyone had really cared that much about Sherlock. Slowly Sherlock followed the others into the building, a new sense of feeling towards both of them. His friends.


	4. Chapter 4: The Case is Open

First Christmas in 221B ch. 4

When they arrived in Lestrade's office, Sally and Anderson were wearily going through a stack of paperwork. As soon as Sherlock walked in, Sally rolled her eyes an asked Lestrade, "Why'd you get this freak involved?"

Lestrade didn't feel like taking her complaining tonight. "Donovan, don't you want to go home soon? He can solve this case by tomorrow and then we can all have a nice day off."

Sally went back to reading the paperwork and Lestrade began to address Sherlock and John again.

"So the case concerns a Mr. Donald Freely, a 37 year old man who was found dead in an alley yesterday morning."

Sherlock had been taking off his scarf, but he began tightening it now, a look of disappointment on his face. "It was probably just another mugging. Honestly, detective, these types of crimes aren't very difficult-"

"I wasn't finished."

Sherlock sat down again and Lestrade sighed heavily. This was surely going to be another battle with his patience. "As I was about to say, there weren't any wounds found on the victim. It wasn't a stabbing, not a gunshot, none of that. We sent him to St Bart's and...well, that's where it gets interesting. The guy that was working there last night is named Doctor Paul Tracy. When he began looking at this particular cadaver...he ran away. He just took off while we were still there waiting for the results. He hasn't showed up since and I don't think he will. We have reason to believe he murdered Mr. Freely, but we have nothing to go on. Donovan and Anderson have been researching our Dr. Tracy, but they haven't found anything yet and-"

"And now he's called you in to do what we imbeciles can't." Anderson began ranting, partly to himself. "Because the great Sherlock Holmes is going to solve this case in ten minutes, getting famous and being rewarded while the rest of us are forgotten. And he'll do it all single-handedly."

"Not single-handedly," Sherlock commented cheekily, "I've got my blogger."

He and John shared a quick smirk with each other, which only made Anderson feel even more angry. He and Sally clicked their teeth and Lestrade commandingly told them, "Get back to work, you two. We're going to need anything we can use against our Dr. Tracy."

Sherlock, John, and Lestrade walked out of the office and back into the streets of London, catching the first taxi to St. Bart's.

"Let's check on Molly, shall we?" Sherlock asked, looking to the other men questioningly, but knowing they would obey his every wish to solve this case and get home soon.


	5. Chapter 5: Our Good Doctor Tracy

**This chapter is a bit long, but please enjoy! Next chapter is coming in the next few days, I hope. Until then, don't be afraid to review! I'd love to see what you guys think of my story so far. Thanks for reading!**

First Christmas in 221B ch. 5

As the three men walked into the lab, Molly looked up from Donald Freely and automatically smiled.

"Hello, Molly," John greeted kindly, pulling on a pair of annoying rubber gloves.

"Hi John; Detective...Sherlock," Molly blushed as Sherlock dove right into examining the cadaver.

He glanced up at her, his ocean-blue eyes making her heart skip a beat, and gave her a quick smile before becoming totally absorbed in the case again. Molly stood watching him for a moment, overjoyed that she finally was with her friends again on this dreary outcome of a Christmas night. Her head went back into the case at hand as she railed off, "There aren't any wounds on the body, but we did find a significant amount of drugs usually used for kids with ADHD."

Sherlock sighed and began taking off his gloves. "Honestly, Lestrade, this is such a simple case. Obviously Dr. Tracy gave his patient, Donald Freely, the wrong drugs, then tried to dispose of the body so he wouldn't be found out. There was no need to leave Mrs. Hudson, tonight of all nights, Lestrade-"

"I wasn't finished, Sherlock," Molly forcefully stated.

Sherlock froze where he stood and began putting his gloves back on. John looked at Molly with a warm smile, glad she had actually stood up to Sherlock's incessant stubbornness for once. Sherlock almost looked proud of her as well. He gave her an honest, "I'm sorry, please go on," which made Lestrade's mouth fall to his jaw in amazement.

Molly smiled at his apologetic face and blushed again, feeling she was finally in control of the conversation that usually he liked to lead. She continued on, "The ADHD drugs weren't enough to kill him, but we also found an injection point in his left arm. Originally, the inspector, (not Lestrade, it was that other guy, what's his name?), anyway, he said that it was there because Mr. Freely was supposed to give blood yesterday, but we called the clinic and they said he never showed up. So we found that the injection had all of the components of rat poison."

Sherlock stared into space a moment, contemplating rat poison and why Dr. Tracy would even have rat poison with him unless...

"Molly, can you take me to the freezer?"

Molly blinked at him. "You want to go into the freezer? It's a bit nippy in there."

Sherlock popped his coat collar, making John chuckle to himself, and said, "I think we'll be alright."

The four of them went into the sub-zero room that rotted of corpses, all just because Sherlock thought it would be a good idea. John, crossing his arms, half because it was cold and half out of frustration, said through his chattering teeth, "Tell me again why we listen to you, Sherlock."

Sherlock didn't respond to this remark. He was already in the center of the room, turning 360 degrees slowly, looking at every wall and every corpse. His phone suddenly started ringing, sending John and Lestrade into groaning. Sherlock checked his phone quickly and read a text from Anderson. Lestrade called out, "Who is it?"

Sherlock called back half-mindedly, "Nobody, I'll tell you later."

Lestrade replied angrily, "Are you finished in there yet?"

Sherlock replied casually, "Yes, I think I've got everything I need, now."

The four rushed back to Donald Freely's body, glad to be out of that frozen, reeking place at last. Molly asked kindly, "What was that about, then?"

Sherlock smiled one of his all-knowing smiles and stated, "You don't seem have rats here at St. Bart's. If a hospital were to have rats, the most common place to find them would be around. The smell of dead bodies. They think it's food and-"

"Sherlock, we get it," John expressed firmly, seeing Molly looking sicker by the second.

Sherlock continued, "Anyway, Dr. Tracy wasn't trying to get rid of any rats."

Lestrade angrily said, "Well I could've told you that ten minutes ago. People getting rid of rats don't accidentally inject people instead, do they?"

Sherlock, clearly annoyed, replied, "That's not what I meant...alright, people who have access to all sorts of knives and drugs aren't going to go buy rat poison to kill someone. He could've used any other kind of device, but he used a completely ordinary can of rat poison. Therefore, either it was the only thing around, or the rat poison was a sort of symbol of something. I think that Tracy planned this murder out pretty well, given that the alley that Freely was found in is nowhere near the home or workplace of either man. Freely works near the sewers, while his body was found in-"

"Wait, wait, wait. How do you know he works in the sewers?"

John was almost sorry he asked when Sherlock automatically started, "Just look at his shoes! Covered in oil and mud. This oil comes from petroleum. The petroleum factory is right next to the sewers by the river. He's also wearing jeans and a tee-shirt. Not a very serious business then, but he was definitely at work given-"

"Never mind, just carry on," Molly smiled at John as Sherlock stopped his rambling abruptly.

Sherlock continued slowly, "Anyway...as I was saying...Freely's murder was planned, but things started going wrong. Tracy couldn't hide the body where he wanted to. Where else to hide it? The alley of some backstreet alleyway. Cops would usually assume it was just another mugging."

John held back the urge to point out that Sherlock had been the one who assumed it had been a mugging. He didn't feel like starting another little argument this Christmas. Sherlock closed, "Something or someone tampered with Tracy's plan and now he's trying not to get caught, but I don't think he'll go too far."

"Why?" Lestrade had faced men running away before. One guy got to Italy before he was caught.

Sherlock finally added, with a smirk, "Because Anderson found his body in the same alleyway.


	6. Chapter 6: The Dark Alley

First Christmas in 221B ch. 6

As Molly waited for the body to come to the lab, Sherlock, John, and Lestrade hurried off to the alley to see if there were any clues as to what could've killed the doctor. As the three men sat anxiously in the cab, Sherlock excitedly stated, "This case is more fun than I thought it would be."

John gave him a disapproving look and quietly commented, "Remember, there's still a man dead tonight. Don't get too excited about that."

Sherlock kept the rest of his comments to himself for the rest of the ride, which brought a bit of a smile onto Lestrade's face. He had been telling all of his buddies at work that John and Sherlock were like a mother and a toddler, respectively. This was another story to be told after Christmas holiday.

They finally arrived in the dark, dodgy alley and immediately saw Dr. Tracy's body on the pavement. Sherlock got right to work, but he didn't have much trouble finding cause of death. "Bullet to the chest, must've died within minutes."

Lestrade stood back at some other cop's car with Anderson, whom had apparently been walking home when he passed by the alley and saw the doctor. Police tape had already been taped up at both sides of the alley and John and Sherlock were both standing next to it on the street side of the alley. John seemed to be thinking very hard as he watched the body being taken into the ambulance to go to St. Bart's. Sherlock noticed and asked what was on his mind. "Why would a doctor be in a place like this? I mean, he seemed like a respectable guy. Why would he end up being killed in a dark alley in the dodgiest part of London?"

Sherlock muttered under his breath, "He was in a gang."

John gave Sherlock a perplexed look. "Why do you think he was in a gang?"

Sherlock glanced at the ambulance, which was slowly disappearing down the road, and replied, "On his wrist he had a tattoo of a skull on the Union flag. That's the symbol of the Raiders of London, an infamous drug dealing gang in this area. They must've been afraid that Tracy would be caught, then they'd all be discovered. They couldn't risk that, so they killed and left his body out so cops would stop searching for him."

It took John a moment to process everything he had just been told. First of all, he wondered how Sherlock knew so much about this secret drug smuggling gang. Besides that, why would this high class doctor be involved in a gang? He resolved to ask Molly about that as soon as he and Sherlock got back to St. Bart's.

As they had been talking, all of the cops had left the scene, ignoring the two strangers from the other side of town. Even Lestrade had hitched a ride with Anderson. John was about to be angry with him, but then he remembered Lestrade had asked them if they wanted a ride and they had absentmindedly told him that they already had a ride. Now the two men stood alone in a dark, gloomy street of the most crime-ridden part of town, simply wishing for a cab to come rolling by.

After ten minutes of sitting in silence, (apart from John's complaints that they should have gotten a ride from the cop who took home Lestrade and Anderson), not even one car had passed by. It was about 2:30 AM on December 26. Nobody would be out for a while.

Suddenly they both heard footsteps coming from the other side of alley. John's soldier strong senses tingled and he stared at the darkness, trying to make out a figure. Sherlock grabbed John's arm and pulled him back from the alley, but it was too late to run anyway. Another two figures had appeared from both sides of the sidewalk, one carrying a handgun and the other carrying a knife. The three people circled around John and Sherlock. One voice, a woman's with a thick low class English accent, stated, "I don't think these blokes are from our neck of the woods."

The man carrying the knife said, in another thickly accented voice, "Nah, definitely not. Look, he's got some pretty boy scarf and the other's got a jumper his mother must've made him."

The third voice came in, much deeper and formal than the others. "Let's bring them in for questioning, shall we?"

The woman shot back, "But Dom! They're such easy prey."

The man, Dom, replied coolly, "You know our business is about more than killing off wanderers. Besides, I overheard them talking. I think we can learn a lot from these two."

At that, Dom proceeded to hit Sherlock in the side of the head with his gun. Sherlock quickly went down, unconscious, and John quickly screamed out, "SHERLOCK!"

John attempted to hit Dom with his fist, but the woman, an apparently very strong woman, held him in place while Dom's arm sped down to bring the gun in contact with John's head.

The three gang members expertly moved the two unconscious bodies into their large, rundown car mechanic base and handcuffed them to the two chairs they had set up for 'questionings'.


	7. Chapter 7: A New Day Dawns

First Christmas in 221B ch. 7

"John, are you alright?"

Sherlock's voice was trembling a bit as he watched his best friend start to awaken, blood streaming down the side of his face where the gun had hit.

"Yeah, yeah, what about you?" A burst of pain hit John when he tried to move his head to the left to face Sherlock and he quietly groaned, trying to hide his pain from Sherlock.

Sherlock's hands were bound to the back of a chair about two meters away from the wall. He faced the left side profile of John, whose hands were also tied, and whom was sitting under a classic fluorescent light for questioning.

The man Dom came into view and John and Sherlock's conversation was over. Seeing John in such a fire circumstance, Sherlock's mind was rapidly searching for an escape route or something to say to get this gang not to kill either of them on this beautiful morning. Unfortunately, Dom didn't give him much time to think before he began questioning John.

"What were you doing in our alley?"

John, who was much better under pressure than Sherlock, coolly replied, "Oh, you own that alley? Sorry, 'forgive us our trespasses' as we say at mass."

In a split second, Dom had punched John in the face and seemed incredibly angry with his cheeky remarks. "You think you're funny, do you?" He turned to the woman and other man, who had appeared from the shadows. "Get the other one over here. This one doesn't want to give straight answers."

The other man untied John's hands and dragged him to a nearby room with a large window. He flicked on the light and threw John into a chair in the other room. John sat groggily, unable to conceive why he had gotten so smart with a gang member carrying a gun in his pocket.

Meanwhile, the woman had lead Sherlock to the hair under the light with more force than was necessary as Sherlock was eagerly waiting to tear this jerk Dom's world apart brick by brick. He sat, almost smiling, at Dom as Dom stared back with his nearly-black eyes.

"You're friend is a cheeky one, eh?"

Sherlock glanced over at the window at John. Just as the room came into focus, Sherlock noticed how hurt his friend seemed and his smile faded. Dom continued his threatening speech, "We'll soon take care of him. Anyway, let's begin, shall we?"

Sherlock began reading Dom like an open book. His mind raced as Dom tried to get him to answer some question Sherlock was too zoned out to hear. _Mother left him when he was three. Father was an alcoholic. Married...unsuccessfully. Joined a gang when he was twelve. Respected by everyone else in the gang, probably the oldest member._

"Do you know who I am, pretty boy?"

Sherlock's head raced back into the broken down car mechanic and he replied coolly, "More than you know yourself."

Dom came closer, his hand automatically reaching towards his gun. "What did you say?"

Sherlock couldn't hold it in. He had to ruin this guy who had hurt his friend so badly. His fear was gone now, a common thing that happened when someone hurt his friends. "Let me guess. You've been in the gang for a while now. You joined because it seemed like the only place you would ever find a job, your father being the man he is. You craved respect and attention, and this gang gives you that."

Dom lifted up his pistol and aimed it at Sherlock's face. His hand was shaking and his face was set like a stone. His voice shook a bit as he replied, "H-how did you know all that? Did someone tell you about me? Who the hell are you, anyway?"

Sherlock calmly said, "I merely observed."

At that second, many things happened all at once. First, Sherlock heard the other man yelling out and footsteps approaching fast. Then, John was seen tackling Dom onto the ground as hard as he could. At that same moment, Dom had fired a bullet from his gun. Everyone froze for a second, quickly coming to terms with their eminent death. Sherlock opened his eyes first. John was covering his head with his hands just like a soldier who had heard a grenade go off. What a perfect soldier he still was. Then he saw Dom on the ground next to John, still holding the gun in his right fist tightly. Then Sherlock looked over at the other man. The other man had apparently been the victim of the bullet. He had died instantly, Sherlock concluded, with a shot to the head.

John lowered his hands and began to sit up slowly, his face still bloodied from the gun and the punch. He looked at Sherlock and they shared a moment of realization that they weren't going to die today, nor any day they were together.

As Dom opened his eyes and the woman came into the room, Sherlock and John easily brought them down and tied them to the chairs. Sherlock texted Lestrade quickly and the pair sat in the entrance to the alley, silently awaiting their favorite DI.


	8. Chapter 8: Back to the Lab

First Christmas in 221B ch. 8

Lestrade felt a little worried as he sped over to the alley, and he turned on his siren just to get through the after-holiday traffic, which he usually tried to avoid doing just to keep his conscious clear. Sherlock had seemed very calm through hi texts, but he also said that they had fought with and had been captured by three gang members. Lestrade arrived at the alley and jumped out of his car when he saw Sherlock and John.

"What the hell happened to you two?"

John still had a bad scrape where the gun had hit, but the other marks were just little cuts around his cheek. Sherlock also looked pretty tired and he had a few cuts on his forehead around his temple. Sherlock replied exasperatedly, "Just help up with those three. Oh, one of them is dead."

Lestrade began walking towards the entrance to the gang's small base. "Dead? You killed one?"

John shot back, "We didn't kill anyone, the other guy shot him when he fell."

Sherlock looked at John's angry, wounded face. He knew that John was only defensive because of his experiences in the war. He always tried to avoid talking about anything that led to John thinking about his days in the army. Especially since his nightmares seemed to be getting increasingly worse night after night. Sometimes when John woke up yelling, Sherlock considered going in to check on him, but he knew John would hate to let Sherlock see him when he wasn't able to hide his true grief. Because as good of friends as they were, John didn't let anyone past his wall of Afghanistan. That was a border nobody except, perhaps, other soldiers could cross.

Lestrade and his back up guys took care of the gang while Sherlock and John got a cab to St. Bart's, where Dr. Tracy had arrived a night before. When Molly saw them, especially John, she instantly insisted that they leave the morgue and go to the real hospital. Sherlock ignored her frantic words of worry and strolled right over to Dr. Tracy and began examining everything from his hair to the insides if his pockets.

Molly walked over slowly, seeing that they weren't going to listen to her anyway. "He seemed like a pretty nice man to me. I had no idea he was in some sort of gang."

John walked over to Sherlock and asked, "How are we going to close this case?"

Sherlock quickly replied, "I'm going to question those thugs that kidnapped us."

With a swoosh of his coat, Sherlock was halfway out of the room and John was jogging to catch up with his friend's long stride. Molly clicked her teeth as she watched them leave without a goodbye. "A nice 'thank you for all of your hard work' or 'we'll see you later, Molly' would do."

Sherlock and John were already in the cab and on their way to Scotland Yard when Sherlock's phone began ringing, showing a number of someone he didn't know.


	9. Chapter 9: Another Ally

First Christmas in 221B ch. 9

Sherlock hesitantly picked up the phone, desperately searching his memory for where the phone was or whose it could be. He worked out that it must be within London, based in the area code, before a deep voice simply said, "We're going to get you. We know what you did to Rey and we'll make sure you pay." The phone on the other line hung up as soon a this dialogue was complete.

Sherlock concluded a few things from this cryptic message. First of all, the 'other guy' of last night must've been Rey. Second, the gang had at least two more people in it. Third, either he or his friends at Scotland Yard or St. Bart's were in grave danger at the moment. He put the phone on his lap for a moment and stared at the back of the cabbie's head. He suddenly thought about that very first case he had solved with John. After a moment, John asked slowly, "So, who was that, then?"

Sherlock didn't reply, but picked up his phone again and feverishly began typing to a few different people. Lestrade. Molly. Mrs. Hudson. Anyone and everyone could be a target. John sighed and looked out the window. What he saw sent a familiar shiver up his spine. They had stopped at a red light and directly to the left of their cab was a man standing in the shadows of some small bakery, becoming for John to come to him. John glanced at Sherlock and, when he looked back, the man was holding into someone. A woman. "MOLLY!"

John jumped out of the car and sprinted towards the man before Sherlock could even comprehend what had happened. The man held up his gun and whispered, "Don't come any closer."

John skidded to a halt an stared desperately at Molly, whose eyes were full of terror. Sherlock had arrived next to John when the man pointed the gun at him instead. "Don't come any closer, you two. I know what you did to Rey. And Tracy."

Sherlock put his hands up in innocence and replied, "We didn't kill either if them. Dom and Rey and a girl-"

"Sal?"

"Sure, Sal. They killed Tracy. Then Dom's gun went off and he accidentally shot Rey."

The man still had his gun pointed at Sherlock, but he seemed more sad than angry. "Tracy was my friend. He helped me get medicine when I couldn't afford it. He was a good man. He only killed Freely to get in with the gang. Freely was going to go to the police. As policy-"

The man stopped talking, losing the will to continue this explanation. Sherlock edged him on. "What's the policy?"

The man answered disgustedly, his voice cracking, "As policy, when someone tries to get the gang in trouble...we call them a rat and...kill them with...it's really terrible but..."

Sherlock finished for him, "But it's the only way to keep out of prison. But why don't you let Ms. Hooper come with us? She hasn't done anything, has she?"

The man lowered his gun as he let go of Molly. "I'm sorry. I thought the only way to get to you would be through Tracy's coworker."

Molly ran over to John and he wrapped his arms around her as she began crying, happy to be back where she was safe. John awkwardly handed her over to Sherlock. He knew how she felt about him. He also knew Sherlock would kill him for putting him in this kind of situation, but one day he'd understand. Sherlock stood paralyzed as Molly out her arms around his chest and sobbed into his shirt. He glared at John, who almost began laughing at his friend's awkwardness. The man suddenly cried out, "Oh man! You...oh no."

John and Sherlock looked at each other for help, but neither could understand what was wrong. Molly stopped her crying and turned to the man. "What is it?" Sherlock inquired quickly.

"Some of my gang...they wanted to get Dom an Sal back. They're going to attack Scotland Yard!"

Sherlock let go of Molly quickly and she nearly fell before stabilizing herself. He was already at the edge of the pavement, hailing for a cab with his slender right hand, when John, Molly, and the other gang member ran after him. Molly stared strangely at the gang member. "You can't come with us to Scotland Yard. You'll be arrested."

The man replied assuredly, "I've never done anything wrong, miss. But I am sorry for scaring you back there. I really am ready to change, though. I don't know what this gang'll be like without old Tracy."

A cab arrived and the four cramped into the backseat, nobody having the idea to sit in the front with the cabbie.


	10. Chapter 10: Revelations

First Christmas in 221B ch. 10

As they sat awkwardly on top of one another in the backseat of the cab, John looked at the gang member kindly. "What's your name?"

The gang member looked at John with wide eyes full of shock. He stammered out, "M-my name is Ryan."

John gave him a friendly smile and Ryan smiled back, a really wide smile that seemed too happy for the occasion. "Nobody's asked me that since Dr. Tracy, when I was just a kid."

John's smile turned from friendly to sympathetic as he realized the depth of Ryan's hardships. Nobody had cared about him other than Dr. Tracy and now Tracy was dead. Ryan turned to the window, pondering over how they would stop his 'gang', but John still stared at him, pitying that poor unloved kid who had stated so good after all of those years filled with hateful people.

They finally arrived at Scotland Yard and all raced to the steps, all worrying they were too late. Sherlock opened the door quickly and sprinted through, completely forgetting to hold it open for the others. They all clambered in as quickly as they could and heard a loud voice booming from upstairs. The four ran up the steps and weren't thrilled with what they saw. Five guys in dark masks were standing over all of the terrified, sitting cops. All of the men were carrying rather large weapons except one. The tallest man stood next to a kneeling Lestrade, who looked anxiously at Sherlock when they all came into the room slowly. The tall man said loudly, "Ah, the man of the hour. Sherlock Holmes. You think you can stop our gang, do you? You won't. We'll keep on going. We'll expand. Our empire will grow."

Sherlock calmly interrupted, "I'm not interested in your gang. I just want you to leave these people alone."

The man started towards Sherlock but stopped when he passed Lestrade. "It's too late for bargains. Maybe you should've thought about that before you killed Tracy."

Ryan appeared suddenly from behind Sherlock. "He didn't kill Tracy. It was Dom. He knew Tracy couldn't outrun the cops, so he killed him, just in case Tracy couldn't keep our gang secret."

The tall man took off his mask, revealing himself to be Dom. He then shot back, "You traitor! You joined the detective over us? You're just as bad as Freely!"

Ryan questioned, "Why did you pretend Sherlock killed Tracy?"

Dom replied angrily, "I didn't kill Tracy!"

John came into the conversation. "Who did kill Tracy, then?"

Sherlock turned to him and pointed out, "Isn't it obvious? It was Sal. Donald Freely and her were in a romantic relationship for at least three years, given the state of her hair, and-"

"Wait, the state of her hair?"

Sherlock continued lazily, "Yes, John, keep up. Anyway, she found out that Dom was in custody for not cooperating with the police on a drug bus, so she explained to them why he had the drugs and who he had gotten them from. The gang found out an sent Tracy, who was always on the borderline with them, to prove his devotion. He was sent to kill the rat. Everyone assumed it had been Donald who told the cops. Nobody could believe it was little miss Sal who really let the secret out. She killed Tracy because he killed her boyfriend and then she didn't even try to hide it because, honestly, she doesn't care about being caught anymore, given that she's not even here to protect her gang."

Everyone was silent for a moment. Then Dom began lifting a handgun from his pocket. "Sal was going out with me. She told me we had a future together."

Sherlock held up his hands in front of his face, ushering Dom to lower his weapon. "Now, Dom, I know you're in a lot of pain, but this isn't a time to do something irrational."

Dom continued his half-dazed speech. "Everyone in this room knows about our gang now. We'll all be arrested in a matter of minutes. My girlfriend was with Freely the whole time. She killed one of my best friends. You see, Mr. Holmes? You brought all of this onto me."

He raised his gun to face Sherlock's chest. "I want you to pay for the pain you've caused me tonight." Suddenly he noticed how calm Sherlock seemed. "You don't seem fazed, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock casually replied, "I've had death threats before, Dom. Many times."

Dom angrily looked back at Lestrade. In one swift move, he moved his gun from pointing at Sherlock to aiming right next to Lestrade's temple. Sherlock quickly let out a high pitched, desperate, "No."

Dom smiled a manic, eerie smile. "Now we're cutting him deep. But let's take it one step further, shall we?"

He suddenly approached John, Lestrade letting out an exasperated sigh as the gun left his head. Dom grabbed John's shoulder and pushed him onto his knees. Sherlock looked frantically from Lestrade to John to Ryan and couldn't think of anything to do. John looked up at Sherlock's struggling face that had always seemed so calm and collected. He heard the cocking of the gun next to his ear and closed his eyes tightly, wishing this nightmare would just end. The sound of a gun going off made everyone in the room jump a little and look over, preparing to see the worst.


	11. Chapter 11: Second Chances

First Christmas in 221B ch. 11

John opened his eyes slowly, half expecting to see heaven. He was shocked to find himself still kneeling on the cold floor of Scotland Yard, Dom lying in a pool of blood next to him. Everything seemed like some kind of odd dreamworld to John and there was a ringing in his ears. Sherlock crouched next to him quickly, but John hardly noticed him because he was so dazed. Sherlock hurriedly said, "You're alright, John. Sal shot Dom. You're ok."

The ringing finally stopped and John looked at his best friend, who normally was so cool and collected, fretting about him making sure he knew he was going to be ok. Slowly they both stood, nearly every eye on either them or Sal, whose arm was still raised holding the handgun and staring at where Dom had been standing. Lestrade stood shakily and then began slowly walking towards Sherlock and John. Sherlock smiled and returned to his normal, unshaken voice as Lestrade approached. "We'll, it seems I've still got my blogger with me. For a moment there I-"

Sherlock trailed off, beginning to stare into space sadly. Lestrade and John saw this difference immediately. They looked at each other and smiled at how human Sherlock was slowly becoming. Sherlock shook his head and continued, "Sorry, I just..." He cleared his throat and returned to his normal tone. "I'm going to talk to Sal."

He turned and walked away briskly, wiping something from his eye quickly. Lestrade looked back at John. "You've changed him, you know."

John replied, "I know. Do you think it's for the better or...?"

"Definitely. You're the one person who can actually turn Sherlock into a normal, frightened human being."

John looked over at Sherlock, who had returned to his usual 'I'm smarter than all of you' manner and chuckled. His face suddenly turned to worry. "Mrs. Hudson has no idea where we are right now. What time is it anyway?"

Lestrade looked at his watch and gritted his teeth nervously. "It's almost 1800, December 26."

John looked around the room at all of the police and gang members. "Are you going to arrest them all?"

Lestrade didn't reply for a moment. "I think so. Although, if there's anyone you think shouldn't be arrested," he looked pointedly at Ryan, who was watching Sal angrily, "We can probably make an exemption."

John looked over at Ryan. "He's a good kid. He's never really done anything wrong. He was friends with Dr. Tracy. I don't know what he'll do now."

A few moments later, more police arrived on the scene and took out Dom's body. All of the gang members were taken out in handcuffs, except Ryan, whom John explained was his cousin who was visiting from the south. Sherlock, Molly, John, Lestrade, and Ryan stood on the pavement in front of Scotland Yard, watching everyone dispersing and calling home to tell their families what had happened. Ryan suddenly started walking away, but Molly grabbed his arm. "Where are you off to?"

Ryan turned around and, grinning, explained, "I'm not going back to the gang, if that's what your thinking. My mum lives just a few blocks away. I haven't seen her in a few years. Blimey, I don't know how she'll react."

Molly kindly replied, "I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see you."

Ryan looked at her strangely. "You know, you're awfully nice for someone who was kidnapped by me earlier."

Molly smiled back. "I've been with worse blokes than you."

They shared another quick smile and Ryan disappeared off the street, excitedly quickening his pace as he neared his old home. Lestrade turned to the others. "Well, I'm going to get home now. It's been a long day and I haven't slept since Christmas Eve."

Sherlock quickly spoke in, "Not so fast, Greg. We've still got that Christmas dinner to finish."

Lestrade looked at Molly and John, who looked just as shocked as he did. "Did you just call me Greg?"

John inquired, "And you want to go back to the dinner?"

Sherlock turned away and hailed for a cab. Lestrade quietly muttered to John, "Now he's freaking me out."

The four climbed into the cab, Sherlock taking the front seat next to the cabbie, and were on their way back to 221B.

**There'll probably be one more chapter just to close up this story coming either later tonight or tomorrow, so stay tuned! Also, please review! This is my first story and I need help so I can improve**!


	12. Chapter 12: Merry Belated Christmas

First Christmas in 221B ch. 12

Sherlock, John, Molly, and Greg jogged up the steps to 221B, fixing their hair and trying to look neat. They all clambered in the small doorway and began up the steps nervously, hoping Mrs. Hudson wouldn't be too angry. As they entered the flat, the noticed Mrs. Hudson's face full of worry as she watched the news on the telly. She turned when they came in and hugged each of them motherly. She started on them immediately. "I saw that Scotland Yard was full of these awful men with guns and everything, I thought you were dead! I fell asleep here last night so I just stayed in case you boys came home. You two worry me sick sometimes with your murder cases and what not. John, what's happened to you? And Sherlock, your forehead is a mess."

The two assured her that they were fine as she ran off to get bandages and disinfectant from the cabinet. Lestrade was simply laughing while Molly found Mrs. Hudson's mother-like worry sweet.

Mrs. Hudson returned and forced John into a chair first and she soon got to work cleaning the gash on his head. Sherlock went off to the kitchen to check on one of his crazy experiments when she called for him and he unwillingly obliged. Now it was John's turn to laugh as Sherlock sat embarrassingly with Mrs. Hudson acting as his nurse. Finally she finished and Sherlock jumped off the chair and walked back to his friends' smug faces.

"Let's finish our Christmas dinner, shall we?" Mrs. Hudson heated up the dinners that had been left in the fridge all night and the five of them gathered merrily around the table, ready to have a break at last. As they all served themselves to the wonderful cooking of Mrs. Hudson, John stood and said, "I'd like to say that this has been the most interesting Christmas of my entire life. I can't say I enjoyed all of it, and I can't say I remember all of it either, but I can say this; I'm glad that at the end of the day, after gang members and murders, and a whole attack on Scotland Yard, we can still just sit and have a nice dinner together. I just met all of you this year, but I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we're already the best of friends. Thank you, all of you, for-"

"John?"

John took a deep breath as he prepared for Sherlock's interruption. He apprehensively muttered, "Yes?"

Sherlock was back to his old self, and his old self wasn't too find of these sentimental speeches. "How about we start our food now?"

John sarcastically smiled and sat down. Secretly, he actually was glad that Sherlock was back to normal. But he wasn't going to tell Sherlock that anytime soon.

The five of them; John, Sherlock, Molly, Lestrade, and Mrs. Hudson; ate their day-too-late Christmas dinner happily, all enjoying what their little group had quickly become: family.


End file.
